The White Rose
by WhiteRose124
Summary: [Pre-COTBP] Captain Jack Sparrow meets a rather unusual bartender in Tortuga and a tale of romance and drama ensues. Jack/OC BUT NOT ONE OF THOSE STORIES WHICH INSERTS AN OC INTO THE CANON PLOT. I would really appreciate it if you took the time to read and review.
1. Chapter 1

**Hello everyone! Thank you for taking a look at my story. You may have noticed that my username and the story title are the same, but that's because I really couldn't think of a username! I hope you enjoy my story, and constructive criticism is appreciated. Thanks for taking the time to read this, and a review would be really appreciated! Lots of love, WR124.**

Chapter One: The Test

"Tha's not known t' meaning o' hard graft 'til tha's tended bar in Tortuga."

This was Anna Carmichael's warning. It was the warning she'd been given on starting her first evening shift in the tavern the Blue Moon, and now it was the warning she passed on to the young and earnest girl stood before her.

In Anna's experience, the barmaids of Tortuga went one of two ways. They either became tough, hardened battleaxes who took nonsense from no man, where oblivious to male charm, and could sell water to mermaids with their persuasive skills, or they became whores. Anna fell firmly into the first category, although admittedly it is rather difficult to retain moral values and conduct when you spend your entire working life surrounded by the type of debasement and depravity that abounds Tortuga, and undoubtedly joining the ranks of the ladies of the night who patrolled the Blue Moon had its financial benefits.

She mentally assessed the young girl, who regarded her with wide dark eyes, more than a little nervous. Abigail Tanner, Anna could predict, would be a weeping violet. She'd be a wreck by the end of the night, having had every square inch of her body mauled by the wolf-like men who peopled the tavern. She would not yet have learnt how to defend herself against them, to scare them so much that no man ever dared lay a hand on her again within the Moon's walls. She'd not yet know how to win them. She was probably new to the town, an import from one of the richer ones such as Port Royal or Villa de la Vega. Anna considered whether Abigail would even last the night. She probably would, she decided, following a swift glance at the girl's tiny waist and alarmingly protuberant collarbone – she looked hungry enough to subject herself to almost anything to get the measly wage afforded to the occupation, though whether she'd become a whore remained to be seen.

Anna drew in a breath, deciding the time was upon her to release Abigail into the shark-infested waters of the tavern. Her main job would be to collect tankards for cleaning. "Keep yer wits about y'," she nodded sagely, and watched the newest addition to her bar staff reluctantly float out into the room.

"Reckon she stands a chance?" The voice of Agatha Butcher, an old faithful member of Anna's staff came over her shoulder as she polished up a tankard prior to filling it with ale for a customer. Agatha was as trusty as a loyal mule and had never let Anna down.

Anna sighed. "Wun't put money on it."

The night was a typically busy one. Anna was serving customers left right and centre, leaving little time for babysitting Abigail. She had to intervene once when the inexperienced barmaid tripped, bumping into a man and spilling his tankard all down him. He was, of course, angry at the waste of his paid-for alcohol. Anna serenely glided over, apologised smoothly, and pressed a full tankard into the man's wet hands. Since the spilt tankard had only been half full, he couldn't really argue. Abigail smiled gratefully at her boss, but Anna looked at her sternly. "What did ah tell thee earlier?"

"Keep your wits about you," Abigail replied in little more than a whisper.

Anna nodded. "Don't let me down again." With that, she returned to her station behind the bar, all the better to keep an eye on her new recruit.

A rueful laugh reached her ears. "You're a harsh mistress, that's for sure."

Anna didn't give her heckler the satisfaction of seeing her turn around just yet. It wasn't a voice she recognised, so not one of her regulars, then, the ones with whom she'd built up a steady rapport of banter and light flirtation to elicit more business. She decided to ignore the remark and serve an averagely scraggly-looking man who waited on the other side of the bar.

"Ye'd make a great pirate captain with a steely countenance like that. Ye could put the fear of God into a crew of miscreants easily."

Anna sighed and finally turned around. The man mocking her was, undoubtedly, a pirate himself. His skin boasted a golden tan, complimenting deep brown eyes which were the feature of an unmistakably handsome face. Dark dreadlocks spilled out across his shoulders, with trinkets interwoven here and there. His goatee, too, featured multicoloured beads. A tricorn hat sat atop his head, completing the intriguing image of a well-travelled scallywag. Anna's voice held a tinge of weariness as she addressed him. "Ah feel like a captain of a hellishly overcrowded sloop sailin' on a sea o' rum while me crew attempt to prevent the passengers from wilfully drowning themsens in it."

The pirate laughed. "That's a hell of a sense of humour you've got there, and an accent. Whereabouts in England are you from?"

Anna opened her mouth to tell him to mind his own business, but paused. Why shouldn't she tell him? It was certainly a change to be prompted to talk about herself – well, aspects of herself which weren't on the front of her chest or between her legs – so she told the pirate. "The north. Yorkshire.'

"Ah, a white rose!" The pirate threw back his head and smiled.

Anna almost felt a semblance of a blush stain her cheeks. That this pirate knew anything about her homeland and its symbol, the white rose, was certainly a shock. His accent, though diluted with pirate dialect, was clearly southern, as were most of the English migrants who came to the Caribbean. The south was far wealthier and where most of the ports were – most northerners were too poor to travel so far south and buy passage on a ship for the Caribbean. Anna had never been rich – her father had been an iron worker. The iron company he worked for, that of the Walker family, made cannons for warships, including some for the great ship the HMS Victory. He would often tell her wonderful adventure stories about these great ships, their voyages to exotic places and their battles, all helped by the cannons her daddy had made. Anna had always imagined what it would be like to sail on such a ship to a place where the sea was blue as the sky and the sand as white as the clouds. Following her father's unexpected death in an accident at the works, she had inherited what savings he had. She'd had nothing to stay in England for – an unmarried fatherless woman had no power or social standing. She had just enough money to realise her dream to sail aboard a fine vessel to the beautiful Caribbean.

She hadn't quite envisaged becoming a bartender in a notorious pirate port town, but needs must. She'd needed money, and she wasn't unhappy. She got occasional days off when she could stroll the golden sands and savour the summer wind that blew in from across the sea, and that was more than every other poor, working-class girl from Yorkshire got to do. What did it matter if she wasn't living the high life now? It wasn't like she'd ever known what the high life was like. The happiest time of her life had been during her voyage from Portsmouth to Port Royal, spending every day looking at the beautiful ocean and chatting with fellow passengers and crew. She'd felt so excited, so full of anticipation for the new life she was about to begin… that was, until she'd been shipwrecked.

This pirate seemed unusually agreeable. She thought it prudent to ask him his name.

"Captain Jack Sparrow," he replied. So he was a pirate. A pirate captain, no less. "And what's yer name, love?"

Anna smiled at the use of the term of endearment which was also her favourite to use. "Anna. Anna Carmichael."

He smiled and briefly tipped the edge of his tankard towards her in a gesture of new acquaintance. She glanced at its contents, not like she needed to. Pirates always drank rum.

Captain Sparrow took a long drag from the tankard and then replaced it on the bar with the thud of iron on wood. "So, love, tell me about yourself."

Oh, this was starting to sound a bit more familiar. The drunkards that populated the tavern often pretended to be interested in her for more than her physical qualities – that is, the quality of being a female – thinking that if they let her talk for a while about herself (as the favourite conversational topic of all women is, apparently, themselves), she would surely open her legs. Anna was a tad disappointed. She'd hoped Captain Sparrow would be different and they might be able to have some semblance of a nice conversation to break up the monotony of her night. Maybe, a voice at the back of her mind niggled, he would still be. She decided to apply her test to him.

Anna's test was a little speech she had devised as an answer to the question the captain had asked, a question she was asked so many times. It was her way of sorting the few decent men who patronised her tavern from the many scummy ones. She took a deep breath, and gazed levelly into the captain's brown eyes.

"I like brandy, the way it burns my lips." She turned her gaze away and seemed to stare into the distance for a moment. "I'm a shipwreck survivor," she paused to swallow hard, and continued, "With a great pair of hips." She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. This was the first part of her test. He didn't look down at her body despite her mentioning her figure, which she knew was pleasing to the male eye. Anna was pleasantly surprised. He continued to look into her face, with something akin to fascination upon his face. All right, so maybe he wasn't going to try to bed her.

Next, she looked straight into his eyes with her most piercing stare. "And my eyes," she pronounced carefully, "have seen it all." This, the captain considered, was probably true, having worked in a tavern in Tortuga for long enough to be in charge at night.

"I tend bar in the tavern they call the Blue Moon. When the drunkards call me 'Little Annie', I say 'that's Miss Carmichael, to you'."

The pirate laughed raucously at her half-rhyming sauce. Good, she thought. He passed the humour part, too. Now, she returned her gaze to his eyes, and regained her cool, calm, level-headed look. She leaned in ever closer to him, resting her weight on the bar with her arms. As she pronounced the last line of her speech, her voice was low and rich with implication, laden with warning and intent. Her words were not empty words. They were to show him, and any man, that she was not to be trifled with. Captain Sparrow was under no such impression as she heavily enunciated the words, "And I'll put a knife in almost anyone."

Whatever the captain had expected her to say, it was not that. Though his eyes did widen slightly in surprise, he did not recoil or flinch as if in guilt. This showed Anna he was unlikely to try to hurt her. He'd passed all three parts of her test.

Anna drew back from him a little, still maintaining eye contact. Something seemed to pass between them, a mutual understanding. The captain began to open his mouth to speak, but he was interrupted.

A man, soaked to the bone and breathless, had burst into the tavern and rushed to the bar, panic in his eyes. "Miss Carmichael! Miss Carmichael!" He shouted desperately. Anna's eyes tore away from the captain's to regard the frenzied man. "There's been a shipwreck! Come quick!"

Anna's face took on an expression of shock. She cried out for Agatha to come and tend bar as she was hurriedly untying her apron from behind her back with fevered fingers. In a matter of seconds, she had shed the ale-stained white garment and skirted the bar, looking through the captain as if he wasn't there. The wet through man ran from the bar, and she jogged in his wake.

Captain Sparrow stared after her, slightly dazed. What an odd, intriguing, utterly fascinating woman. Definitely not what you expect to find in a Tortuga tavern. Admittedly, he had started with the intention of bedding her. She was a true English rose with soft features, a classical, stately kind of beauty despite her undoubtedly rough origins. In fact, her broad Yorkshire Tyke accent added to her attractiveness. Now, however, he thought such an attempt would do them both a disservice. She was far too intriguing to simply bed and forget about. No, much conversation would be in order first.

He was drawn from his reverie by a strong feminine voice. "You alright for a drink there, sir? Sorry about that, you seemed to be having a good old chat with Anna there."

He turned to see a barmaid stood in Anna's place, smiling slightly at him. Though not unattractive, she was plainer with hair as black as night. This must be Agatha, he thought. "Aye, we were," he said, settling back down. "She's an interesting woman."

Agatha smirked. "She sure is. She give you the test, then, I take it?" Agatha knew all about Anna's test, had even used a variant of it herself occasionally. However it seemed to work better if you had Anna's looks.

Captain Sparrow's brow furrowed. "Test? What test?"

Agatha's eyes seemed to laugh. "Oh, you'll have to ask her."

He sensed he wasn't going to get any more out of her, so he asked, "Where's she gone? I don't see anyone else running around to help the shipwreck survivors."

The barmaid sighed heavily. "She likes to help them. She's not trained to do anything useful, mind, but she can provide towels and fresh water and bandage the odd wound. Most of all they like her to sing to them, the ones that are real goners, you know. Just soothe them while they pass on. She was shipwrecked herself, you know, on her passage over here. It certainly had an impression on her, seeing all those poor souls less lucky than her dying in pain. That's why she does anything she can now to help those unfortunate ones."

Captain Sparrow considered this new information. It was interesting, for sure. She certainly was a complicated character, one he would surely enjoy unravelling if he had the chance. "If I come back here tomorrow, will she be here? I should like to talk to her some more."

Agatha shrugged noncommittally, but said, "I daresay."

He nodded to her. "See you then, then." With that, he withdrew from the bar, and then the tavern. Within seconds he was gone into the night, his tricorn-ed head disappearing through the doorframe.

Agatha watched him go with a hint of amusement. Anna had a suitor, it seemed! How deliciously unusual. She usually scared all men off with her test. Agatha chuckled to herself. She could just imagine Anna's face when Agatha would mock her about the captain tomorrow!


	2. Chapter 2

**Hello there! Thanks for staying tuned! I also would like to thank BrilliantlyME, Aim1107 and Mazgrl98 for their lovely and encouraging reviews. I hope you enjoy this chapter just as much! NB: The song in this chapter is a song that was written in 1932 by Irving Berlin, and I know using songs that are not from the 18****th**** century are frowned upon in fanfiction, but I tried to compose my own lyrics for the purposes of this fic and I failed and gave up! The song seemed fairly appropriate, so I hope you guys don't mind me doing that too much. Lots of love, WR124**

Chapter Two

A Good Woman

Captain Jack Sparrow was surprised to find himself waking in his own cabin after a night in Tortuga. He was even more surprised to find himself alone. Slowly, the events of the night before came back to him as he surfaced from the thoughtless oblivion of sleep. He remembered Anna's face, its soft oval shape framed by fiery orange curls as she leant towards him, her low, rich voice uttering the most spine-chilling warning he'd ever heard: "I'll put a knife in almost anyone."

She was no real threat. She was feminine and breakable. One would simply have to get a fistful of those flaming locks and pull backwards, hard, to render her incapable of self-defence, if he knew anything about the matter, and yet the memory of her sultry threat pierced him deeper than any blood-curdling pirate's war cry.

Jack shuddered. After a second, he pulled himself from his bed, reaching for his breeches which lay discarded on the floor beside it. If Anna's aim was to scare off any man who meant her harm, he had no doubt that she succeeded. Yet since he had only the best of intentions, well, the best intentions he was capable of having, he was certainly not put off patronising her tavern again.

Putting her out of his mind for the moment, he dressed and exited his cabin to find the sun high and golden in the sky. It was later than he'd thought.

He saw one of the most fiercely loyal of his crew, Bill Turner, chatting with the _Black Pearl_'s comedy duo, Pintel and Ragetti, at the port side of the ship, and approached them.

"Poor bleeders didn't stand a chance," Ragetti was saying. "Captain was obviously unfamiliar with the rocks that lie around Tortuga and she was splintered like a dingy in a maelstrom."

Bill inhaled sharply. "Poor souls," he said, shaking his head.

Jack chose this moment to inject. "Were there any survivors?" he asked.

Bill and Ragetti shrugged, but Pintel said, "I saw some being taken back to shore in dinghies, Cap'n. Not many, mind, and they seemed in a pretty bad way. But there were some, at least."

The three seemed to collectively shudder. The horror of shipwrecks was one that most pirates had experienced in one way or another, be it having been shipwrecked themselves, having witnessed a wreck, or dealt with survivors afterwards. No memories were pleasant.

Jack shook his head. Though death and destruction were everyday things to a pirate captain such as he, such a needless, unwarranted and easily avoided loss of life as this could dampen anyone's spirits somewhat.

He adjusted his hat atop his head and said, "I'm off into town. If you see any of the others, spread the word around that we're leaving tomorrow, and the Code _will _be honoured if they're not on time." Jack made his way off down the gangplank as the chorus of "Aye, Cap'n" rang behind him.

He would like to say that Tortuga was a different place in the daytime, but it really wasn't. The same level of debauchery abounded, albeit in a slightly quieter and more low-key manner. The only other real difference was the appearance of other citizens of Tortuga; those who weren't whores, bar staff or drunkards. Now, bakers, maids, mothers, and merchants milled in the streets too, lending the town a marginally more respectable air.

Soon, he found himself stood before the door to the Blue Moon. Why was he so curious about this woman? He asked himself as he pushed open the door to the tavern and went inside.

The woman behind the bar in the daytime did not seem too happy to be faced with a man who was not, for once, interested in buying either booze or her body. She had pinched features and wore a bodice which seemed to try to create tempting cleavage where there was none. She seemed disgruntled when he asked after Anna, barking angrily, "She ain't 'ere, all right, and I don't know where she is, so bugger off!" Her harsh Cockney accent made Anna's broad Yorkshire tones seem refined. Agatha, too, seemed nowhere in sight.

Jack sighed and left the tavern. He was contemplating what to do next when he saw a sight which made him want to run for cover. Scarlett, one of Jack's many wenches, was marching along the street in his direction, her eponymous dyed hair piled high upon her head and her pale powdered face accenting her sharp features. She would be furious if she saw him, for she must know that the _Pearl_ was docked in Tortuga and he hadn't been to see her. She hadn't seen him yet, but she would if he didn't get out of the way – fast.

He took off running down the nearest side street, along the side of the Blue Moon. He paused around a corner, peeking out and watching as Scarlett's ostentatious hairdo bobbed past obliviously. He'd gotten away with it.

Jack straightened up and breathed a sigh of relief. He decided to take a route through the back streets towards his ship just in case Scarlett was still roaming about the main byways. He wove his way through the narrow passages, racking his brains to remember the way, when his attention was distracted by the sound of song.

"_How much do I love you?  
__I'll tell you no lie,  
__How deep is the ocean?  
__How high is the sky?"_

The voice was a deep, rich contralto, expressive and melodious. Jack found himself pausing to listen. The joys of true musical talent were ones that were often robbed from pirates. Some ships hired their own musicians, but Jack would rather spend his money on booze and whores, in all honesty. Occasionally he would encounter fiddlers playing in taverns for tips, or rather providing musical accompaniment to the bar fights, but the luxury of hearing a harmonious voice was a rare one. He moved closer to the source of the sound, a door to his right which lay open just a crack. He pressed his face nearer to the wood.

"_How far would I travel  
__To be where you are?  
__How far is the journey  
__From here to a star?"_

He had already divined that the voice was Anna's. She must have been singing to the shipwreck survivors. He was reluctant to enter, and somewhere deep within himself he almost felt a twinge of guilt for intruding on what must be someone's last moments of life, a moment which ought to be private and dignified for any man. Jack grimaced, thinking of the fact that he was likely not to end his life being sung to by a fair maiden, but swinging on the end of a rope. He put the thought from his mind and continued to listen as Anna ended her song.

"_And if I ever lost you,  
__How much would I cry?  
__How deep is the ocean?  
__How high is the sky?"_

An extended, heavy silence took over after her last note had faded away. The hairs on the back of Jack's neck stood on end, and he knew that whoever Anna had been singing to had now departed this life. He swallowed hard and was about to draw back from the door when it suddenly swung open before him.

He came face to face with Agatha, who looked a little red around the eyes and not at all pleased to see him. She was carrying a large basket of clothes. "Oh, Mr. Sparrow," she said, sniffling.

"Captain," he corrected without thinking.

Then, he saw her. Looking past Agatha in the doorway, there she was, knelt on the ground, her simple purple dress getting dirty around the knees. She had just pulled the sheet over the face of an unfortunate victim of the shipwreck. Anna, too, looked like she'd been crying. She saw him and rose to her feet. Agatha brushed past him and down the street, letting out a sob as she did so. Anna took her place in the doorway, pulling it to so that only her head and torso were visible in the gap to respect the privacy of those injured within.

Anna snorted deeply, trying to pull herself together. The woman stood before Jack now seemed a sharp contrast to the woman who had asserted she would make no qualms about stabbing him if he attempted to hurt her the night before. She'd been shipwrecked herself, so surely the destruction and despair that surrounded her must be her worst nightmare, and yet she still tried to help others and preserve their dignity and her own while doing so. It was admirable. Then, she spoke, her voice softer than the night before now she was free of the dog-eat-dog atmosphere of the Blue Moon. "Captain Sparrow," she pronounced slowly. "I'm sorry tha had t' see that. It's never a pleasant sight, but we try t' give others t' dignity we'd like afforded t' oursens when we go." She smiled weakly, looking into his eyes. A pained moan came from behind her and the smile vanished from her face. She glanced over her shoulder. "I'm sorry," she said. "I've gotta tend to this man. He got really cold in the water, we're not sure if he'll make it yet."

"Will you be in the tavern tonight?" Jack asked before he'd realised what he was saying. He knew he was supposed to ask if there was anything he could do to help, and any decent man would've done, but Jack wasn't a decent man nor had ever pretended to be. He looked at Anna, her beautiful face pale with worry, her blue eyes encircled with the dark smudges of fatigue, and knew at once that despite the toughened exterior he had experienced last night, she was completely decent, a totally good person.

Anna looked somewhat surprised at his question. "A-aye, I suppose so. Gotta earn a living anyroad." She smiled feebly again.

He suddenly found himself nervous, anxious and fidgety, wanting nothing more than to run back to his ship and set sail for the other side of the world. His tongue felt thick and heavy in his mouth. "M-maybe I'll be seeing ye."

Her smile broadened a little and her eye sparkled. She knew he was lying, he realised. As she herself had said, she'd seen it all. Yet still she said, her voice as low and sensual as it had been the night before in the tavern, "Maybe you will." Her smile was wonderful. It pulled upwards at the left corner of her mouth and seemed to set her whole face alight.

The wounded sailor moaned again. Jack took this as his cue to leave, quickly tipping his hat to her and taking off swiftly down the street. Anna remained in the doorway, watching the funny old pirate captain she'd charmed in the Blue Moon run from her as if she were a fierce tiger. Men are strange, she thought, not for the first time.

Suddenly, as if he'd run into a brick wall, Jack turned around and looked back at her with the look of a man who'd just remembered something very important. He called out to her, "I just remembered – Agatha said something about you setting a test for me last night?"

Anna threw back her head and laughed. Her laugh was just like her voice – rich and melodious. As she disappeared back round the doorway, she called a reply, "You passed!" With that, she closed the door behind her.

Jack stared back down the street for a moment, taking in what had just happened. Then he hightailed out of the backstreet in his usual comical run, feeling as panicked as if he was running from the gallows, all the more scared for not knowing why.

* * *

Anna was still laughing, despite the pain and misery of the others in the room, after she'd closed the door. Abigail, who was helping an injured seaman take sips of water from a bottle, looked up at her in surprise. She cleared her throat. "Looks like you made quite an impression on him."

Anna laughed all the more, her genial chortle becoming a hearty bellow. "Aye," she said between laughs. She settled down to the makeshift bedside of the hypothermic sailor, drawing his blankets closer round him. "I'll never see 'im again," she said knowingly. Abigail looked puzzled, but Anna retained a fond smile on her face as she made up some hot broth for the frozen survivors. If nothing else, the amusing captain had certainly cheered her up.

Bill Turner was scrubbing the _Black Pearl_'s deck when he heard frenzied footsteps trampling up the gangplank. He looked up to see his captain, running feverishly in his usual swaggering manner onto the ship.

"You all right, Captain?" He called out to him with concern. It wasn't like Jack to spend much time on his ship while docked in Tortuga.

"Aye," he called back. "No need to worry. Everything is fine and dandy, peachy as a… peach… ship-shape, as it were." With that, he vanished into his cabin.

Bill shook his head. Who knew what went through his captain's head sometimes?

* * *

Jack sat on his queen size, red satin quilted bed. After a second, he uprooted himself and dashed to a desk against the cabin's wall, rooting through the drawers until he found a bottle of rum. Replanting himself upon his bed, he uncorked the bottle and took a deep drag, before setting about to divine why exactly he had just taken off as if he'd had hot coals in his boots.

He'd expected her to be a wench. Not a whore, but a wench, and she certainly wasn't. She wasn't rich, she wasn't well-bred, but she was a lady as fine as he'd ever met, and she was honest and good. He had never been either of those things, and his conscience had never troubled him about corrupting those that were. Yet she was different. Seeing her cry over the death of a man she didn't know from Adam and showing such worry and care for the wreck survivors stirred him so much that he knew he must leave her alone – let her remain good and honest and caring for those in need. He was the kind of man that destroyed such qualities – not always willingly. He paced his cabin, clutching his bottle of rum, and probed deeper into his mind. Why should he run from her? She was certainly tough. He reckoned he'd seen her at her most vulnerable today, pulling the sheet over that poor bugger's face. She made no qualms about putting a knife in any man who raised his hand to her. She probably carried a knife underneath her skirts, tucked into her garter… he swallowed hard and tried not to think of how he imagined her pale, creamy thighs would look.

The realisation came to him all of a sudden. He had to leave her as she was in case someday it was him whose hand she held and sang to as he passed on, in case it was him, or his crew, she cried over as she drew up the sheet. The world needed women like her, and the world needed bastards like him to leave them be.

In one big gulp, Jack polished off his bottle of rum. This having a conscience business was exhausting. He hoped it didn't happen too often. He'd have to go and plunder an extra merchant ship to make up for it.

Jack marched over to his cabin's door and poked his head around the frame. He called out to Bill, "Rally the troops! Change of plan! We're getting out of here as soon as we can – let's go make some money!"

Bill grinned. That was the Jack he knew and loved – erratic, eccentric, and genius in his own chaotic way. "Aye aye, Captain!" was his enthusiastic reply as he hoisted himself to his feet and set off in search of the _Black Pearl_'s crew.

* * *

Anna had passed over her survivor-tending duties to Agatha and was stationed in her usual spot behind the bar in the tavern. The night was disappointingly typical – after the unusual appearance of Captain Sparrow the night before she felt the monotony more acutely than usual. She knew the captain wouldn't appear, and yet she couldn't help herself looking up every time she heard the tavern's door creak open. She'd scared him off. She'd probably set his conscience pricking him when he'd seen what a good honest little girl she was, tending the wounded. She smiled to herself. Why did men think women so black and white? They were either whores or angels, yet men could be anywhere on a spectrum in between.

She tended bar all night and the captain never arrived, as predicted. Anna hung up her apron and went back to tending the wounded. They lost another three souls that night.


	3. Chapter 3

**Hi everyone! Sorry for the delay in this update, I've been on holiday to Scotland! Once again, thanks to my reviewers Mazgrl98 and daydreamer987, you're very kind! I hope you continue to enjoy my story.**

Chapter Three

An Accord

When those that could be saved had recovered and those that were destined to pass on had been assisted in their departure, Anna's life returned to normal. The Blue Moon was chaotic, as always, and Anna and her girls continued to resort to stealing snifters of brandy from the bar to get them through the shift. Men still prepositioned the bar staff and Anna continued to charm the customers with her sauce or scare them with her threats. It was, as they say, business as usual.

On the_ Black Pearl_, it was much the same story. Jack and his crew had been having the time of their lives plundering and pillaging for all they were worth. Their holds were bursting with swag and Jack felt as content as a cat that got the cream.

In short, they had all but forgotten about each other. Sure, Jack sometimes awoke from sleep with the ghost of a haunting refrain sung by a rich contralto ringing in his ears, and Anna craned her neck to see the identity of any man wearing a tricorn hat, but by and large life went on.

Despite the recent success of Jack and his crew's latest pillaging efforts, there was still one treasure that lay out of reach to them, and so they lusted for it ever more: the treasure of Cortés.

Jack had long dreamed of that which no man had yet achieved: immortality. From the day he'd heard the myths of the cursed treasure of Cortés, he knew that it would be his ultimate quest. There was just one problem: the island couldn't be found but by those that already knew its location. The thing with myths, Jack thought, was that they were just that: mythological, not entirely grounded in reality, which certainly made finding someone who knew how to find the mythical Isla de Muerta difficult.

Yet Jack thought he had at last discovered one such person. There were rumours circulating the criminal underworld of the Spanish Main of a voodoo priestess by the name of Tia Dalma who lived in the swamps of Cuba and was said to be the greatest mystic on the continent. However, Jack was loathe to leave his ship anchored offshore while he went off in search of this mystic, as the island was notoriously full of thieves even more despicable than himself who wouldn't think twice about massacring an entire crew and making off with the _Pearl._ Jack therefore had need of getting Ms Dalma to a more neutral setting for them to negotiate her divination of the way to the Isla de Muerta, and had sent a messenger to her to meet him in the most pirate-neutral location in the Caribbean: Tortuga. He had enclosed some gold as an incentive. Well, she was a voodoo priestess, so surely getting around the Caribbean couldn't be so difficult for her?

That's what Jack told himself, at least, as he navigated his way through the undulating crowd in the Blue Moon tavern, feeling a little nervous. What if she didn't show up? His journey would have been for nothing.

Anna stood at her station behind the bar. Handily, it was also a vantage point which gave her the best view possible over her occupational domain. Now, however, there was only one specimen who had caught her attention. A dark-skinned, beautiful yet strange-looking woman had strolled into the tavern maybe half an hour ago. The crowds had seemed to part automatically for her, in a Moses-like movement, yet no one was really looking at her. No one except Anna.

Her hair reminded her somewhat of the strange pirate captain who'd patronised her tavern maybe two months ago. It was dreadlocked and hung low down her back. Her eyes were dark as night and she wore a lot of eccentric, macabre jewellery. Her crimson dress may have originally been beautiful and expensive but had seen better days. It was now stained and discoloured, the once white lace having yellowed. Strangest of all, she didn't order a drink. She didn't even make eye-contact with Anna despite walking straight towards her; she looked through her as if she wasn't there. Instead, she simply took a seat in an alcove to the left of the tavern and made no attempt to socialise with anyone, still retaining that blank, serene look on her face. She had been there ever since, unmoving.

Anna had wondered briefly if she was a whore, but her unclean and unkempt appearance wouldn't be particularly attractive to potential customers, not that the men who patronised her bar were generally very choosy. Besides, were she a whore she'd no doubt be actively trying to entice the men, not just sitting there gormlessly.

Anna was just considering going to eject the abnormal woman on the grounds that she hadn't purchased a drink and the seating was needed for paying customers, when another bizarre individual entered the bar. First her attention was caught by the tricorn hat, but then she saw it really was him! It was Captain Sparrow!

He saw her and smiled. He strode over to her in broad, purposeful strides.

As beautiful as before, Jack thought as he saw Anna's face, framed as ever by orange locks. That same old sideways smile was tugging up the left corner of her mouth and her blue eyes were sparkling. He wished he could stay by the bar and talk with her all night, but – he remembered with a gulp and a nervous tug in his stomach – he had to meet with this weird mystic, if she'd even made an appearance.

"Well, tha proved me wrong!" She called cheerfully as she set about filling a tankard of rum for him without even waiting to hear the order. "I said to Abigail here-" the younger, hungrier looking barmaid smiled at him too as she pulled some ale for another customer. Anna was pleased that she was toughening up and hadn't as yet become a whore – "after tha left last time that we'd never see thee again. Nice to have thee back!" She was on top form tonight, lively, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed.

Jack sorely regretted not being able to spend the night enjoying her good humour. He slid some coins across the counter to her for his rum. His voice was flat and low as he said, "Thanks for the rum, lass. If you'll excuse me I've got some business to attend to now."

Anna looked a little put out as she watched the pirate captain take his tankard of rum and walk away in a quick, quiet movement. To her surprise she saw him go over and join the strange-looking woman in the alcove! Pirates were so unpredictable. She watched curiously. They didn't seem to already know each other, as they greeted each other with the plastered smiles and pleasantries of any first meeting. Hm, the pirate did appear to have some manners then, despite the rude and brusque way he'd just brushed her off after she had given him such a warm and cheery welcome. Make no mistakes, Anna did not give out such welcomes often to her customers.

The abnormal woman seemed rather over-familiar with the pirate captain, as if she knew him rather better than she did. She was very touchy-feely with him, always touching his hand or brushing his arm. The idea that they were courting seemed alien to her – pirates didn't court, did they? They merely paid whores. Maybe she was a whore after all, there by appointment with Captain Sparrow. Anna's mind paused in all this to ask herself why she cared so much who the captain chose to consort with. Perhaps she'd hastily flattered herself that he'd come back to the Blue Moon to see her again. She almost laughed at how ridiculous the thought seemed now and how egoistic it was of her to even think it.

Soon, the pirate captain pulled out a map and spread it on the table before them. This peaked Anna's curiosity even more. It must be some sort of strange pirate business. She craned to see if she could make out the map at all. At that moment, the bizarre woman saw her and caught her eye with an unfriendly, steely glare. Anna looked away quickly towards the door, knowing now the matter must be private.

"Who's your friend?" asked Tia Dalma brusquely, interrupting Jack's flow of speech about his planned voyage.

Jack looked up to where Anna stood behind the bar, looking dead ahead at the tavern's entrance, clearly trying not to look at the two of them. He smirked a little, then quickly disguised it. Was she jealous? He dismissed Tia's question with a flippant wave of his hand. "Oh, just a barmaid I had a bit of banter with on my last visit here."

Tia regarded him with cool curiosity. "Banter… in bed?" A tawdry smile crept onto her face at the suggestion.

Jack looked surprised at the notion. "No, no, of course not! Just a chat, you know."

Tia's grin grew wider. "I know what you pirate men are like. You like dese loose women, no?"

"Anna's not like that." Jack said quickly and firmly, looking down at the map before them as if to signal that he would say no more on the matter. Tia dropped it, but when she looked up again Anna was watching them again. "So, to the Isla de Muerta…" Jack began again.

Tia and Anna were still holding each other's gaze. Tia grinned again and quickly interrupted Jack. "I think I know what you can be doing for me in return for the island's location," she said. She met the pirate's eye. "Spend the night. Wid me."

Jack was more than a little surprised and his eyes widened. Part of him protested the thought of being treated like one of the whores that peopled this tavern and all the taverns of Tortuga, but the rest of him thought that he was already a filthy pirate, so how much worse could a whore be? It was, even so, a fairly low price for the riches that abounded on the Isla de Muerta. Running his eyes over Tia's body, he found it agreeable enough.

Sensing his hesitancy, Tia said, "Well, Captain Sparrow, you have bid me trek all the way from Cuba to come deal wid you tonight. It would only be fair to give some pleasure for my trouble, no? It is more valuable than any material possession."

To hell with it, Jack thought. He wanted that treasure, and if sleeping with a beautiful (if strange) woman was all it took to obtain it, well then he was game.

He drew closer to her, so their faces were merely inches apart. "It's a deal," he said in little more than a whisper.

Tia smiled seductively and with that Jack enveloped her lips in a passionate kiss. Captain Jack Sparrow wasted no time in affairs of the bedroom.

Soon, he and Tia were locked in a desirous embrace. It was almost like the woman had put a charm on him to prevent him from being able to take his hands off her, Jack thought. They were even clasping each other as Jack fumbled in his pocket for the coins to pay Anna for the use of the room upstairs in the inn part of the tavern. Despite often receiving payment from customers while they were gripped in the rigors of passion, she was not in the mood for watching Captain Sparrow canoodle with this weird woman. Her humour had taken a downturn from the moment they had started embracing. Why should she care if this woman was to sleep with the captain? She asked herself as she stood behind the bar, one hand on her bustled hip, the other tapping impatiently on the bar. Wouldn't they just pay her and sod off upstairs already so she could storm around in a bad temper in peace?

Finally, Jack found the coins he searched for and quickly slammed them down on the bar without even detaching himself from Tia's lips. Anna snatched them up promptly and virtually threw the room key at them. It had a big wooden tag with a number on it attached. "Don't loose that bugger or tha'll pay a shilling for it," she said grumpily, knowing they weren't listening. They immediately shuffled off up the stairs, canoodling all the way.

Anna was angry with herself for being angry at the sight of Jack and Tia embracing so. She had to admit to herself that she was, in some way, jealous. The captain was an undoubtedly handsome man and on his last visit to Tortuga she thought she had felt a sort of connection with him, a mutual understanding perhaps. He had no obligation to her, of course, and to expect such would be beyond unreasonable, it would be ludicrous, but for him to passionately canoodle with a woman right in front of her was just bad taste, wasn't it?

Anna almost laughed at herself. He was a pirate. He was bad taste personified.

Still angry nonetheless, Anna set about polishing the varnished top of the bar with a certain violence and strength of effort, her expression steely. Agatha stood at the other end of the bar, regarding her. She was clearly deep in thought and did not want to be disturbed, but Agatha felt obliged to comfort her even so. She knew that Anna had been oddly fond of the funny old captain. She swiftly approached her superior and clasped her large ruddy hands to Anna's slim shoulders in what she hoped was a reassuring gesture. "Never mind lass, there'll be another one." With that she was gone off into the throng of the bar bearing her dishcloth to wipe clean some of the tables.

Anna was left to ask herself aloud, "Another what?" There was only one Captain Jack Sparrow, to be sure, but what was he to her? A conversational partner? A kindred spirit? Friend? Even a gentleman caller?

Anna sighed and threw the dishcloth she'd been polishing the bar with down on its enamelled surface. He was no one, just another bloody no-good sleazy punter, like the rest of them, and that was that.

The next morning Captain Jack Sparrow woke in the rented room above the tavern and immediately panicked. He was alone. Tia was nowhere in sight, leaving no instructions on how to find the Isla de Muerta behind her.

He hurriedly hauled himself to his feet and yanked on a pair of breeches. He jerked the bedding around, searching among its folds for anything – a note, a map, anything – of the island's location. Nothing. It wasn't there. She'd cheated him and now she was gone, and he was no closer to finding the treasure.

"DAMN IT!" He cried at the top of his voice.

He hurriedly pulled on the rest of his clothing, donned his personal effects and stormed out of the room in a frightful temper. He rampaged down the stairs to the bar area, and, to his surprise, found Anna sat atop a stool behind the bar in a most prim and proper pose, looking rather like the cat that got the cream and more like an English lady than a Tortuga bartender. She looked much different today; her customary simple dress was covered by a long black overcoat buttoned up the front and her flaming orange curls were tucked up under a matching black cap. She turned her face towards him serenely. "Ah, good mornin', Captain Sparrow." Her eyes roved over him and she smirked. No doubt he appeared even more dishevelled than usual.

"No, it's not," he grumbled quietly. Then, he raised his voice to a normal conversational level. "Lass, have you seen that woman I was with last night?"

Anna's face took on a perfectly poised and crafted expression of confusion. "A woman?" She said questioningly. "I don't remember you being with any woman, Captain Sparrow."

She was obviously lying to rile him, Jack thought, staring at her incredulously. Had she really been so jealous, objected to his actions so much? He found it hard to believe. She'd seemed so classy, so ladylike for a woman of her station, and now she was behaving like a common strumpet, churlish after having imagined being wronged.

"Lass, I don't have time for your silly games. This is important." Jack leant forwards, resting his weight on the bar, shaking his head.

Anna pursed her sweet lips as if in thought. "Nay, I don't remember any woman," she pronounced innocently.

Jack lost his temper and slammed his hands down hard onto the bar, making her jump. "For god's sake, lass, have you seen her?" He was shouting. "We had an accord and she hasn't made good on her side of the bargain."

Anna threw back her head and laughed, finally giving in, having sufficiently wound him up. "With what kind of… shall we say, _negotiating_ you two were engaging in last night, I'd say tha was now little more than a common whore like what peoples my tavern and tha shouldn't be surprised at bein' treated like one. Y' think women who shag for money get treated fairly?" Jack was a bit taken aback at her untoward language. Anna sat forward in her chair and stared him in the eye. He was more than a little startled at being given a moral lesson by her. While it wasn't quite hypocritical, it was pretty bizarre. "Y' think cos y're a man, a mighty fearsome pirate captain, that it's any different for y'? Y're nowt but a common whore as ever there was." She turned away from him and looked towards the door, clearly feeling better for her outburst.

Jack sensed this and decided not to take offence. It was, after all, a rather fair analysis of his actions. Nonetheless, he was a little bewildered by how much she seemed to care about with whom he consorted. She was right though: he'd acted like a whore and had been used like one.

Even so, he wasn't going to admit that to her. After a long, heavy silence, he pronounced softly, "Have I gone down in your estimation, love?"

His frank directness took her by surprise and seemed to abate her a bit. Her steely gaze dissolved a little and she switched her focus to the bar before her as she said, "Aye, a little."

He leant further towards her. He could only be as honest as she was being, it would only be fair. "I can't apologise for there was more riding on that… _negotiation_ than you could ever imagine. I'm a pirate, love. Nothing is too immoral for us."

She made eye contact with him again and her expression eased into what was almost a smile. "I know, lad. I shoulda known that all along. But I stupidly fooled myself into thinking tha was different from all the others. Tha passed my test, after all. Tha was the first pirate to do so."

Jack had temporarily forgotten about the directions to the Isla de Muerta. Anna was opening up a little to him, it seemed, and suddenly that appeared more important. "Will you ever tell me about this test and how I came to pass it?" He asked, more curious than ever.

She smiled properly now, a warm smile that reached her eyes. "Maybe I'll tell the someday," she said in a soft and knowing voice. Then, she straightened up and stood up from her stool, walking over to the back wall of the tavern and plucking a tankard at random from a shelf and beginning to polish it with a cloth. Now, she was back to business. "I may be able to help thee with tha little predicament after all, Captain Sparrow." Her back was to him, so Jack couldn't see the playful, cheeky smirk that danced around her features mischievously.

Jack was stood up straight in an instant. "You can, can ye lass?" His eyes glowed bright with excitement.

"But," she said sharply, slamming the now shining tankard back on the shelf with a bang, making Jack jump. She turned around swiftly and leant back against the counter that ran along the tavern's back wall. "It comes at a price. I'm not helpin' you for nowt, Captain Sparrow."

Jack's eyes narrowed as he regarded her now. This woman was every season of the year, every nuanced mood of the ocean, rolled into one. One could never predict what she would do next.

"Treasure of the Isla de Muerta, eh?" She eyed him coolly, her arched eyebrows set high on her head. "I've heard the stories. Wouldn't mind a cut o' that fortune for mesen." She was sneering impishly.

Jack roiled angrily, all the more enraged for being confused. "How do you know about that? How do you know that's where I'm headed?"

That all-knowing, wise smile was back. Suddenly, Jack noticed something he had not noticed before. There was a corner of a folded piece of paper poking out of her overcoat pocket. She saw what he was looking at and her face took on an expression of panic. She jumped backward from the bar and her hand went grappling for the piece of paper at the exact same moment Jack threw his upper body over the bar, his arm outstretched for it. "Gimme that!" He squawked, desperately reaching for the sheet, but she had danced out of his reach and was now lurking in the doorway which led to the back rooms and scullery that formed the working, staff-only areas of the tavern which were usually concealed from customers' view. Jack was not to be defeated. He jumped over the bar and advanced on her, watching as she backed up into the inner workings of the taverns, her blue eyes becoming wider and wider with fear. He suddenly realised how intimidating he must have appeared to her, despite that fact that she was not a small woman, in fact she nearly equalled him in height, and that she had seemed so resolute and steely when she had threatened him with the knife on their first meeting. He smirked to himself. Where were her cold threats now?

Her large, frightened eyes bored into his as he pursued her slowly backwards. He would have those instructions by any means necessary, and he would suffer no cost to his profits at the hands of this bribing woman. To think he'd once wanted to bed her! She was nothing but a money-grabbing wench like the rest of them.

Suddenly, something inside her switched and at once she did the only thing she could think of to delay Captain Sparrow from getting the note. She took the note and stuffed it down her cleavage.

At once, they both paused, standing stock-still in the corridor. He suddenly realised how quiet it was; the only sound he could hear was her laborious, fearful breathing. They stared at each other for a moment, aghast. Then Jack said, holding his hands up, "Oh, love, you think a little trick like that is going to stop me?" He took another step towards her and she gasped, stumbling backwards away from him. "I'm a big bad pirate captain," he said lowly and darkly, continuing to hasten towards her. "I gave my body to a voodoo witch last night for those directions last night," he paused, watching Anna run from him like a startled fawn. "You think I'd give up now to preserve the modesty of your sacred breasts?" He laughed, almost manically. Victory was so close, he could almost taste it.

All of a sudden, she stopped advancing backwards and ducked sideways into a back room of the bar. A series of crashes followed, and as Jack marched around the doorframe he found himself skittering, tripping and falling over a series of pots and pans which Anna had just tipped onto the floor. It took him a few seconds to right himself again, and by the time he'd found his feet he had well and truly lost.

Anna stood before him in a fighter's stance, her legs wide apart and her upper body tense. She held a long, thin, sharp kitchen knife in her hand – pointed directly at his neck. She regarded him not with the cool and collected look she had given him when she had first threatened him all those months ago, but with a vicious, almost animalistic snarl. She looked much like a cornered viper that was poised to attack. This was the true face of Anna Carmichael's defence, and it was much worse than he'd imagined.

His first thought was to unsheathe one of his weapons, but he knew that to do so would see his throat slit. Instead, he tried to compose something to say in his mind to diffuse the situation. Yet it was a situation he had entirely created himself. This was the last time he would underestimate a woman purely for being pretty and feminine.

"I would gladly dispatch thee now and save the Royal Navy a job if I didn't think I might still have a chance of gettin' a share of the Isla's unimaginable riches," she growled, her voice low and deadly. Then, her tone took on a slightly hurt one, "I don't understand. You passed me test and everything. You weren't supposed to try to _hurt _me-"

"And you weren't supposed to steal from me, love," Jack interrupted coldly.

She looked affronted. "I _didn't _steal from you!" She screeched, horrified.

He was confused. "Then how did you get those directions?"

The blade, so close to his neck, was trembling with the exertion of holding it in place. "Your… your… _bedmate _left earlier this morning. She came down t' see me before she went and gave me this note with the instruction of giving it to thee when you got up." She paused to swallow hard. "Naturally, I read it, because _I'm a nosy old mare_," she said, glaring pointedly at him before he could comment. "And I figured why not use it to me own advantage. I hardly want to spend the rest of me life tending bar in Tortuga if I could have a slice of the treasure of the Isla de Muerta in me own hands. It's what any pirate would do," she finished, a touch defensively.

Jack stepped back, regarding her in a new light.

"And I was just about to explain that to y' when y' went barmy at me and threatened to molest me and god knows what else."

Jack felt almost a little guilty. "I see," he said slowly. This lass had more mettle than he'd thought. It was true, it was what any pirate would've done. Hell, he would've done it himself in that situation. He admired her for it, in a way.

"I'll give you t' directions on t' conditions that I get ten percent of t' treasure and I accompany y' on y' ship for the entire voyage, and that afterwards y' will drop me off back here."

"Ten percent?" Jack blustered, outraged. None of his crew would even get that much!

Anna shrugged emphatically before tapping the edge of the knife's blade on his neck. "Or I could just kill thee and tha'll get nowt," she said firmly, and he had no doubts that she'd do it. "And I'll just find another pirate crew what's interested in the fabled treasure. Shouldn't be too hard t' find someone more cooperative than yasen."

Jack smirked a little at her. She was something else. "You drive a hard bargain, Miss Carmichael," he referred to her by name for the first time. "But we have an accord."

She returned his smile, that brilliant, sparkling sideways smile of hers, and lowered her knife, extending her hand to shake with his. His touch was pleasant and warming. "We certainly do, Captain Sparrow."


	4. Chapter 4

**Hi everyone! Hope you're all enjoying the story. Thanks as ever to Mazgrl98 for her kind reviews, and all of your questions will be answered in due course! Enjoy! Love, WR124**

Chapter Four

You're A Pirate

Anna stood upon the deck of the _Black Pearl_, savouring the sensation of the sea breeze caressing her face. She wore her hair tied up in a bun at the back of her head to keep it from the wind and held her overcoat tightly to her chest to conserve warmth. Though she loved sailing as nothing else, she'd never expected she'd sail on a pirate ship, yet she loved the roguish life upon the high seas. Did that make her a pirate too? She smiled slightly to herself as she watched the golden sun sink below the horizon. The idea didn't seem as horrible as it once had.

She'd been aboard the _Pearl _for about a week now. Her smile widened as she remembered the shocked looks on Agatha and Abigail's faces when she told them where she was going – "You're running away with a pirate?" Agatha had gasped, and Anna had laughed. Essentially she was.

Her employer had expressed unhappiness and regret, though not surprise, when she'd resigned from her post. He'd never had a bartender as reliable and stoic as Anna and he doubted he would again, but he wished her well. She had left in good standing with no regrets, knowing she would never again be poor enough to have to tend bar in that god-awful place. She'd be the richest young woman to ever sail the Caribbean.

Even though she'd bribed and blackmailed him, Captain Sparrow seemed to have forgotten their earlier tribulations and they now got on reasonably well. She could not, however, say the same for the crew, who were suspicious and superstitious. She knew her presence was considered bad luck and the crew berated her for having caused a loss of their profits. The only exception was Bill Turner, a friendly, kind-faced man who called her 'poppet' and complimented her cooking, which the rest of the crew devoured voraciously while still giving her dirty glares. She could understand the crew's animosity towards her, but hey, wouldn't they have done exactly the same thing in her situation?

She'd tried her best to pull her weight on the ship, despite the fact that she was weaker than the men. As well as cooking, she cleaned the ship, swabbed the decks, and washed the crew's hammocks and clothes if they so desired, a comfort which few of the crew had known for years, yet they did not soften towards her at all.

The most acrimonious of all was Captain Sparrow's first mate, Barbossa. He trusted her even less than the rest of the crew and regarded her with a creepy, chilling smirk every time he saw her, which doubtlessly unnerved her.

She was not offered the luxury of her own cabin on board the ship despite her status as the only female sailor, and so had to make do with sharing with the crew, a prospect she had prepared for on her first night on board with trepidation and fear. She'd stuffed a knife under her pillow and a cosh under her bed in case any of these frightful pirates should try to have their way with her in the night, and been sure to take a hammock as near to Bill and far away from Barbossa as possible. On her other side was Ragetti, a gangly young pirate who disliked her but generally seemed afraid of everything and so she doubted she'd have much trouble from him. Her nightgown was buttoned up to her neck and she felt like she was sleeping in a suit of armour, but after she'd figured out how to balance on a hammock and clambered in, she was surprised to find that no one bothered her. In fact, all the pirates laid facing away from her and no one made a sound.

"Bill," she whispered to the pirate in the hammock next to her. "Bill."

The marauder rolled over laboriously in his hammock and looked at her in the dim candlelight.

"Why's it so quiet?" she asked, her brow furrowed.

He began to chuckle softly, a rich, warm sound that seemed to fill his large frame. He propped himself up on his elbows and explained in his Glaswegian accent, "Our Cap'n gave them a right talking tae before you came aboard. He said you mightn't look like much but you could've killed him if you'd wanted – and anyone who can overpower the captain's a match for any of us. He also added that if anyone laid a hand on you they'd be keelhauled," he finished with a chortle.

Anna smiled. "That explains it then." With that Bill rolled back over and went to sleep.

Anna lay awake for some time that night, not yet used to the rocking motion of the ship and the wooden creaking sounds she made. She considered why Captain Sparrow would be so protective of her – she was only here because she'd blackmailed him at knifepoint. It was hardly an amiable agreement even if they seemed to be on good terms now. Perhaps there was more honour among thieves than she'd first thought.

She and Bill had taken to talking at night amid the hushes and calls to shut up from other members of the crew, and from him she'd heard many of the infamous stories about Captain Sparrow. He also told her of his wife and son in England, to whom he sent as much of his loot as he could. A week on, he was beginning to become something of a friend to her.

Now, Anna turned around and regarded Captain Sparrow stood at his station at the helm, looking dashing as ever. He saw her and smiled, but his attention was quickly distracted when a crewman shouted, "Sail ho!"

Captain Sparrow looked out to the horizon and squinted before pulling a spyglass from his coat pocket, extending it and peering down its length. The small black dot on the horizon became a large ship flying a distinctive Jolly Roger, a skull set against an open book. Captain Sparrow sighed, lowering the spyglass from his eye. Barbossa approached him and said, "Be that the _Misty Lady_ on the horizon, or am I mistaken?"

"Aye, it is," said Jack, looking through the spyglass again. The vessel was now flying a white flag with a red cross on it, the signal that the ship required assistance. "I suppose we'll have to be making way for her."

Jack was in an exasperated mood for the rest of the evening knowing he would have to deal with the _Misty Lady _at some point in the next day. He gave Anna the task of repairing a hole in one of the spare sails and went off to his cabin.

It was a nice night, clear and pleasantly warm, so Anna decided to set about the task sat on deck. She settled herself with a lantern illuminating her work, and commenced patching the hole and enjoying the sensations the sea night offered to her.

She was quite absorbed in the task when her attention was caught by the sound of one of the deck's planks creaking behind her. She turned quickly to look over her shoulder and called, "Who's there?" fearing it was one of the more unsavoury members of the crew. Her voice sounded a little shriller than she would have liked.

A warm chuckle reached her ears. "Tis just I," came the voice of Captain Sparrow, appearing into the radius of her lantern's glow and rounding it to stand before her.

"Oh," she said with a smile. He was looking at her with a somewhat faraway look on his face. She smoothed her hands across the sail to reveal her handiwork. "I trust my work is satisfactory?"

He gave the sail but a cursory glance. "Aye, love, it is," he paused for a second. "We're making good time to the Isla de Muerta," he added.

Anna smiled, picking up her needle and preparing to continue sewing as they talked. "Oh, good," she said affably.

Jack looked displeased as she started to recommence work. He paced before her as they spoke idly of the journey, the weather, the unimaginable riches that awaited them on the island. He was fighting a hidden battle inside himself. A week since they left port and already he was going out of his mind – he needed company, female company. Normally such things didn't bother him while he was totally focused on a mission – and what could be a more important mission than this? – but with her, a woman, a woman of amazing beauty and good nature at that, here on board… he was going crazy. She was a good woman, a good woman whom he had promised himself he wouldn't corrupt, and yet she was vexing him so irresistibly. All the same, she was no angel. She could hold her own against him. She was a barkeep from Tortuga – she'd hardly lived an innocent life. So why did his conscience prick him when normally it was absent?

Eventually there came a break in their conversation and she noticed his unsettled humour. "Are y' all right, Captain?" she asked.

"Aye, love," he said tensely. "Take a break for a moment." He gestured for her to follow him over to the starboard side of the ship. They leant against the dark wood of the _Pearl _and looked out across the black sea. The sky was starless, distinguishable from the sea by only a few shades.

He leant towards her even further, stealing a quick glance at her expression. She gazed out towards the darkened horizon, her face betraying no trace of emotion. Jack pointed out into the darkness. He shifted his gaze back out across the water. "The island will come into view in that direction."

"Will it be long?"

Jack sighed. "Depends on the wind. Up 'til now the wind's been totally against us, right since we left port. We're sailing directly into a headwind and it's putting days on our journey."

Anna nodded. "Never mind. The treasure'll still be there when we arrive." A smile crept onto her face. "And no doubt the whores and taverns will still be in Tortuga when you return."

Jack feigned offence. "Why, Miss Carmichael! What interest would I have in such things?" Anna laughed. "Anyway, the taverns will hold much less excitement now that you'll not be there."

Anna sobered up rather sharply. She swallowed hard. "I don't know why I'm such an interest to y', Captain Sparrow."

They looked at each other. Her eyes seemed to resist his attempts to break her gaze. He opened his mouth as if to speak, but no words came. Eventually, he changed the subject. "What'll it be for you, after this? What're you going to do when you've got all your riches?"

She looked back out to sea and her tone seemed to relax back into easy conversation. "Oh, I thought I'd travel a bit if I could. See more of t' world. Then maybe I'll buy a big house and think about marrying. Of course, that will require a decent man and we all know how hard they are to come across." She chuckled softly.

His eyes met hers again. "Am I a decent man, Miss Carmichael?"

Anna gulped, her skin tingling from head to toe. Was he suggesting he marry her? Surely not. She could hardly imagine him waltzing her down the aisle clad in suit and tie. She could hardly imagine him doing anything remotely dedicated and committed that didn't include gross monetary gain for him at all.

"Being captain of a ship, I could, you know, perform a ma-rri-age, right here, right now," his voice was low and sensuous.

Anna was not sure how seriously to take him. "Oh, could y' now?" Her voice was as level as she could keep it.

Jack circled her. "Aye, I could. So, Miss Carmichael, am I a decent man? It's a question I'm not so sure of myself. Now if t'were a question of me honesty I'd know for sure. I'm dishonest, and you can always rely on me to be dishonest. You, however… you're so honest it makes me cold piratey heart bleed. I don't know what to do with ye." He stopped circling her and paused before her. His eyes bored into hers. He took another step towards her, and to his surprise as well as her own, she didn't back away. "Yer so beautiful-" Anna found her cheeks burning in the dark despite having heard the words from many mouths. It meant much more coming from this rogue and criminal. "-and were y' anyone else I'd not show such restraint around ye." He raised a hand and brushed the back of it against her soft blushing cheek. "Yer a maiden yet a blackmailer, a damsel yet deadly. And still so honest… I haven't the slightest idea what to do with you."

Anna found herself unable to look away from his gaze. Her mouth was dry and her throat tight and she found herself not entirely believing this was all truly happening.

"I ought to be careful, or some of your honesty might start to rub off on me."

His touch on her skin made her melt. She wasn't absolutely sure she was thinking clearly and rationally. How was one meant to react in such situations? Was one meant to act the prim and proper lady – no, she had gone rather too far down the path of the criminal for that. Yet she was not an unhinged ruthless strumpet either. She was somewhere on the spectrum in between, and now, released from the fairly restrictive life she'd led in Tortuga, she had to figure out exactly how she fit into that spectrum. Maybe this moment on deck with Captain Sparrow would be the beginning of her new identity.

"So, Miss Carmichael, am I a decent man?" He was so close to her now, so close she could feel his breath on her face. He seemed to have made a decision.

So did she. "Dear Jack," She referred to him by his forename for the first time, reaching forward and sweeping the famous tricorn hat off his head, leaving her arm draped over his shoulder. "Y're a pirate."

With that, Jack swept his arms around her and pulled her lips to his.


	5. Chapter 5

**Hello everyone! Thanks so much to Mazgrl98 (as always), NoReins-XO and minaa for your kind reviews and encouragement, they mean so much. This chapter is regrettably a bit of a filler chapter, but I hope you all enjoy it nonetheless!**

Chapter Five

Captain Teague

Anna awoke the next morning in her hammock not sure if the events of the night before had actually happened.

It was _so _unlike her. She had never really had much interest in troubling with men and their ways before. She was only entertaining the idea of marriage because it seemed the next logical step after unimaginable riches and a big grand house. So why did Captain Sparrow – Jack – get under her skin so?

The kisses had been wonderful. She had never been a particularly wanton woman prone to indulging in sensuous desires; her sparse upbringing had not left much room for that. Yet had the captain suggested the night before that she accompany him to his bed… well, she couldn't guarantee to herself that she would have said no.

All the same, he had been honourable and treated her like a lady. She had _felt _like a lady, an experience she wasn't used to. Wasn't it strange, ironic even, that the most ladylike she'd felt in her life was in the arms of a pirate? He'd eventually pulled his lips from hers and looked deeply into her eyes and said, "I prize you more than to treat you like a common whore. Please, retire to your hammock and I shall see you tomorrow." It had seemed bizarre to her that he was speaking to her so cordially, as she was indeed a lady and he a gentlemanly suitor. Perhaps, it occurred to her now, he had been trying to restrain himself from acting in a less gentlemanly manner. With one last long, lingering kiss, they broke apart and he turned to march towards his cabin. "Goodnight, Miss Carmichael," he had called over his shoulder.

"Please," her voice broke forth from her chest in a breathy, needy gasp. "Call me Anna."

He had paused and turned around to regard her once more, a cheeky smirk on his face. "Goodnight, Anna," he said, and vanished into his cabin.

She could tell Bill was awake when she reached her hammock by his breathing, but he didn't roll over to face her and said nothing, so neither did she. It took her seemingly ages to find sleep that night; her senses were so aroused from her contact with Jack that she tingled from head to toe. When she did sleep her dreams were broken and vivid.

Emerging onto deck the next morning, she found it a hive of activity. Approaching them was a ship flying a Jolly Roger and a white flag with a red cross through it. She peered curiously at it, wondering what it meant and why the two ships were heading straight for each other. She hoped there wasn't going to be a battle. She bit her lip with nerves just at the thought, but looking round the _Black Pearl_'s deck reassured her that no such clash was going to take place. Though the crew were busy, they seemed amicable and cheerful, calling out to each other good-naturedly as they governed the _Pearl_'s many ropes, sails and beams. There was no air of imminent battle, no war cries, hostile faces or cannons loading. So, if there was no clash to be had, why were the two ships meeting? Were they bargaining, trading or passing on vital information? Or did pirates often meet up in the middle of the sea for social visits?

Bill, who was tying a knot on the port side of the ship, must have seen the curiosity on her face and said, "That's the _Misty Lady._ Captained by a man named Captain Teague. Do you know who that is?"

Anna shook her head, her gaze not moving from the approaching ship.

"It's Captain Jack's father."

Anna's head snapped around to face the sailor. "Really?" Her expression was one of shock. It wasn't a surprise to her that Jack came from a pirating background, but to learn that his father was also a prestigious pirate captain was.

Bill nodded. "Oh aye."

Anna's brow furrowed. "Why dun't Jack – Captain Sparrow – sail wi' him? I mean, surely it'd be better to sail wi' y' own father than to try and make y' own way in t' pirate world? Clearly, it can't be easy."

Bill's eyebrows raised at her use of the captain's forename, but he replied with a chuckle, "Anna, me love-" he was the only member of the crew who liked, respected and trusted her enough to refer to her by name, or even speak to her directly at all, "-y' know how stubborn he is. Y' think he'd ever settle for sailing under another man, least of all his father, one of the toughest pirates to ever sail the seven seas?"

Anna smiled fondly. "I s'pose not." Then she frowned a little. "Toughest pirate to ever sail the seven seas? Will I like him?"

Bill chortled again. "Dunno, depends if he introduces you to him or not!"

"He might," said Anna with a smile.

"Why would he?"

"Dunno, he just might." She looked over to the stern of the ship, where Jack paced to and fro with a stern expression on his face, Barbossa at his side. They seemed deep in discussion. Anna smiled affectionately at him. "Right then, old Bill, I've gorra job to do," she said cheerfully, clapping the sailor on the shoulder and making to amble over to where her stool still awaited her from the night before, the sail she had been mending draped over it.

"And so have I!" He called to her good-naturedly. She laughed a little to herself before setting about her work.

It was strange how quickly she had become accustomed to the hustle and bustle of the ship. What had once seemed a loud and intrusive din – the aching, endless soar of the waves against the bulwarks, the almost melodic, rhythmic creaks and groans of the great ship's woodwork, the flapping and rippling of the black sails in the wind and the calls, shouts and ordered issued between members of the crew – was now pleasant, almost unnoticeable background noise. Time passed easily and quickly as she concentrated on her task, feeling somewhat at one with the ship and her pulse.

She was only aware of any changes on the ship when she realised all had gone deadly quiet, save for the waves and the sounds of the vessel. Looking up from her workstation, she saw all the crew lining the sides of the deck, stood to attention with a sailor's salute. Anna didn't even know pirates did sailor's salutes.

Feeling thoughtless being the only one sat while everyone else stood attentively, Anna got to her feet, smoothed the front of her dress and clasped her hands before her, the way she used to in the tavern should the owner come in.

The other ship was now alongside the _Pearl, _and a gangplank had been laid across the intervening gap, conjoining the two vessels. A great man now struggled across in a labouring crawl. Jack stood awaiting at the other end, holding out his hand to the man when he was in reach. The new arrival aboard the _Pearl_ clasped his hand to his and Jack helped him up as he stepped onto deck.

Already, even from a fair distance, the resemblance was striking. Captain Teague shared his son's tanned complexion and abundance of dark curls and dreadlocks which were also adorned with trinkets. His overall style, however, was more aristocratic and flamboyant; he preferred lace-trimmed garments and a large flashy hat bedecked with feathers to Jack's more simple apparel and ever-present tricorn headgear. Anna could tell that Captain Teague had been a handsome man; the lines on his face didn't seem to detract much from his appearance. He had aged well. If Jack was anything like his father, he needn't worry about losing his looks as he got older.

The two greeted each other with affection and animation, though Anna detected a slightly impatient air attached to Jack's body language, unless she imagined it. No doubt he was antsy to continue on the route to the treasure, and she envisaged the crew, despite all their earnest respect for the senior Captain, would become restless after all but a short meeting.

Anna was out of earshot, but she imagined the two were sharing small talk and just generally catching-up. Soon, the older man was calling to certain members of the crew with whom he was familiar, Barbossa among them. Before long the crew had descended into a hubbub of banter and chatter with the visitor. Anna stayed where she was, looking on. Subsequently, Jack made eye contact with her and, much to her surprise, raised his arm and beckoned her over. She approached him, wending her way through the sailors until she stood before the two captains.

By this time, the crew were talking among themselves and nobody was really paying much attention to the three. "Dad," Jack brought up his arm and gestured to her. "This is the lass I was telling ye about."

"Ah, the little extorter!" The elder man chuckled. Anna flushed, but then the captain gave her a wink which reassured her that he was only joking. "What's yer name, love?"

"Anna," she replied softly.

"Anna," he repeated. "And what do you want with the treasure of the Isla de Muerta?"

"What everybody else wants," Anna shrugged with a smile.

"Immortality?" His eyebrows raised in surprise. "But you're so young as it is!"

Anna smiled and laughed a little. "I'm more in it for t' money."

"Well, you must be something special to pull the wool over our Jackie's eyes so easily," the old captain beamed. "And have him so vexed-"

Anna flushed again and looked shyly at Jack as he cut his father off. "Anna has a wonderful singing voice, you know."

Captain Teague looked at her with renewed interest. "Oh, do you?"

Anna's cheeks remained a bright red. "So I'm told, but I've never seen it mesen."

"Dad has a keen interest in music," Jack provided.

"I'm not sure I'd call it a keen interest, lad," his father said mildly. "I play me guitar like a Spanish minstrel but that's all it is."

"Really, though, it's beautiful. She used to sing to the shipwreck survivors in Tortuga during their last moments."

"Well, what a noble thing to do," Captain Teague said softly.

Anna smiled and looked at the floor. "Thank you."

"That does, in fact, lead me on to why I flew the assistance flag," Captain Teague turned back to his son. "We hit a terrible storm the other night. Ship took some damage and we were headin' back to port for repairs. I thought, when I saw the _Pearl_, that me only son could help me out stead'a me trekkin' all the way back across the sea."

Jack sighed. "I knew it'd be something like this," he said, but when he looked back to his father, he was fixing him with that sweet, affectionate look that reminded Jack that he couldn't really begrudge his father such a simple act of kindness. His crew, on the other hand... but nonetheless. "What do you need?"

The two descended into discussion about the repairs needed. If the two ships' crews worked together, they could effectively complete repairs. Anna turned away as they talked to mouth to Bill, who looked on, "I told you he'd introduce me!"

Bill simply smiled and shook his head.

Anna's attention was taken again when Captain Teague called to her, "Anna!"

She turned around to face him again, a polite smile on her face.

"Would you care to join my son and I for some dinner in my cabin this evening so you can show me this beautiful singing voice of yours?"

Anna looked at him in surprise. She briefly wondered if this was a joke, but the captain's face was genuine. So she replied with legitimate gratitude, "I would be honoured."

The Captain touched the feathered edge of his hat in a courteous gesture to her, and with that he turned and walked back towards his son. Jack met Anna's gaze with a small smile, which Anna returned, and she knew that he too was thinking of the passionate embraces they had shared the night before. Anna went to resume her sail-mending, eagerly anticipating her meeting with the two captains that night.


	6. Chapter 6

**Hi everyone! Thanks for staying with me! Thanks, as ever, to Mazgrl98 for her review. I'm quite pleased with my productiveness - it's not taken me too long to update this time! I hope you enjoy this chapter :)**

Chapter Six

The Feast

The hours seemed to pass achingly slowly until the hour of her meeting with the captains. Anna sewed diligently and soon the repairs to the sail were done. Seeing that she had finished her work, Jack roped her into helping with the _Misty Lady_'s repairs by sewing more sails and mending ropes. She worked industriously, hoping to both while away the time faster and prove to the crew that she _was _pulling her own weight despite her unsavoury reason for being there in the first place.

Finally, the time was almost upon her. She finished re-weaving the damaged bit of rope she had been working on and found a quiet corner of a storeroom below decks to smarten herself up. She was sweaty and dishevelled from working hard all day and she didn't have the time nor the opportunity for a wash, so she made the best of the bad situation and neatened and brushed her hair and smoothed out her dress. She wasn't entirely sure how formal this meeting was to be and therefore how much effort she should make, but judging by Captain Teague's laid-back attitude to her earlier there wasn't much ceremony and showiness expected of her. After all, as far as he was concerned, she was nothing but a wench from Tortuga. She winced internally at her own description. She wanted more than that for herself, but with the Isla de Muerta's riches in her hands she could have whatever she wanted. She smiled at the thought, and, deeming herself presentable enough for the meeting, made her way back on deck.

She'd hoped to make a dignified entrance to the dinner, but that plan came altogether unstuck when she found herself stood beside the edge of the gangplank, the agitated blue sea looming far beneath it. Bill saw her standing there looking dubiously at the plank, and, realising her predicament, approached her.

He almost laughed when he saw how pale her face was. "You've never done this before, have y'?"

Anna shook her head, her lips pursed into a thin white line. "I've done it t' board and disembark ships but never to travel in between. Doesn't seem so scary when there's only a little gap and a nice firm reassuring dock beneath y'."

Bill smiled fondly at her. For all her posturing, bravado and knife-wielding fearsome enough to keep the crew away, she really hadn't completely got her sea legs yet. "Ne'er mind, love. You can do it. I'll help y', see."

Anna smiled gratefully at him and he grasped her by her elbows and helped her climb onto the barriers at the edge of the ship. She stood, her toes touching the edge of the gangplank and stared down at the sea, hesitant. "Oh, God."

"Go on, love! Crouch down and get into a crawl and just have at it, you'll be over the other side in no time!" Bill called encouragingly.

This was so embarrassing, and demeaning in a way. She imagined the whole crew stood behind her on deck watching her foolishness, ready to make lewd catcalls at her behind when she bent down to get into a crawl, with only Bill to defend her. There really was no dignity in this pirate business.

She steadied herself and just as she was about to begin to crouch, she heard a familiar voice of Jack behind her. "Nay, love, let's not be doing it the landlubber's way. Hang on a second." Anna dared only glance fleetingly over her shoulder for fear of losing her balance and falling into the crevice between the two ships, surely to drown or else be crushed beneath one ship's hull or the other, and saw a blur of dreadlocks before she looked forwards again. Suddenly, a blunt force collided with the length of her body from behind and she was jolted forward. She gasped, certain she would fall in, but a strong arm wrapped itself around her midriff and pulled her tight against the body behind her. She felt breath warm on her ear and heard him whisper, "Never fear, love, old Jack is here. Now let me guide you."

Now her heart was racing and her nerves were on end for another reason to the drop before her. Still holding her tightly to him, Jack repositioned his legs so that his knees more or less slotted in behind hers. Then, he gently pushed forward with his left leg, encouraging her to take a small step forward onto the plank. She complied with his touch, but whimpered, "Oh, Jack, I'm scared."

"No need to be, love," his voice was low and soothing. He spoke calmly, as if he was consoling a spooked horse. She said no more, and, slowly and steadily, they moved out step by step onto the gangplank over the open ocean.

Anna thought it best to close her eyes and simply trust Jack's touch and judgement. She felt the crew's eyes on them, no doubt wondering and coming up with the worst conclusion. She tried to put that out of her mind for the moment and concentrate on Jack's body behind her, guiding hers to safety.

"Y're so tense, love," he murmured. "Don't you trust me?"

Anna swallowed deeply. "Tha knows I do, or tha should do. Would I really put my life in t' hands o' a man I dun't trust? Not just nah, but from t' minute I stepped on this ship. A woman on board a notorious pirate ship… would I really put mesen in that position wi' a man I dun't trust?"

Jack said nothing.

Anna swallowed again and continued, against her better sense. "I've not kissed a man in years, nor let a man touch me and hold me like you've held me. I've never even wanted a man to, yet I long for you. Dun't that show y' something of how I hold thee in high regard?"

Jack was still silent, so Anna shut up, worrying she'd said too much. The atmosphere seemed changed between them somehow, and Jack's breath felt calmer and deeper against her cold cheek. She concentrated on his breaths and synchronising her respiration with them, and suddenly the plank fell away from under her and she was plummeting. Her breath caught in her throat as she fought for the air to scream – and promptly landed, face first, on the wooden deck of the _Misty Lady_ with a painful thump. A rousing round of laughter rose behind her from the crew of the _Black Pearl_.

Jack landed lightly at her rear. "Bloody hell, love, I thought you were looking where you're going."

Anna struggled to sit upright and squinted into the sun at Jack's silhouette, shielding her eyes from the sunlight. "I had me eyes closed," she said sheepishly, "I was scared."

The crew were still laughing. Jack turned and bellowed over his shoulder, "Shut up you lot!" Then he bent forward to help lift Anna to her feet. "No bloody respect, them lot," he muttered lowly to her.

Anna forced a bright smile, pretending to be unperturbed by the crew's mockery. "Ee, it's only natural they 'ate me. I'm nowt better than a thief t' them."

"As if they're any better," Jack grumbled, looping her arm through his and leading her towards his father's cabin. "We're all bloody thieves, the lot of us."

Anna looked down at their entwined arms dubiously. "Aren't y' worried about what t' crew will think?"

Jack smirked knowingly. "Let 'em think what they like. I dare any of the buggers to ask me."

Anna felt reassured that she hadn't put her foot in it with her little outpouring as they inched suspended over the sea, and together they entered the captain's cabin.

Captain Teague sat awaiting them behind a splendiferous wide mahogany table with intricately carved legs and a scarlet tablecloth, upon which lay a veritable feast the like of which Anna had never seen, let alone tasted. There was both roast chicken and beef tenderloin, juicy and succulent, combined with a myriad of vegetables and perfectly golden roast potatoes, not to mention fruit! Anna was reminded of a cornucopia as she saw the reams of grapes, apples, plums, and other fruits, some of which she didn't even recognise. Her eyes must've been popping out of her head as she regarded it all, for the captain laughed at her.

Jack had already settled himself in a chair and tucked a crimson napkin down his front as if he were a stately gentleman not wanting to ruin his Sunday finery, and was already chewing on a chicken leg.

Anna looked at Captain Teague, who smiled warmly at her and gestured to the chair opposite Jack. "Sit down and feast, and welcome to my table." He glanced at his son, who had already smeared grease around his mouth in his eagerness to devour the luscious chicken. "No need to stand on ceremony, as you can see."

Anna smiled gratefully and took her seat. The food was, predictably, delicious, and she ate as she'd never eaten in her life.

Captain Teague regarded her as she flopped back into her chair at the end of her meal, cradling her swollen stomach with one hand. "Something tells me y'aren't accustomed to feasting so, miss?"

Anna smiled and chuckled a little. "What on earth gave y' that idea?"

The two men laughed. Captain Teague continued, "Y'r mother's Sunday cooking not up to scratch, then?"

Anna looked down at the tablecloth, smoothing it with her fingers. Her smile faded a little but did not disappear completely; she looked pensive. "I never knew my mother; my father provided for me growing up."

"No wonder then!" Captain Teague cried, throwing his hands into the air, and he and his son laughed uproariously.

Anna's face remained contemplative. "We were very poor," she said, still staring into the middle distance. Even though there had only been her father and she, it had been tough. She couldn't imagine how her childhood friends who had had six, seven, eight, even nine siblings had got by with the same salary her father got. She turned her gaze to the elder captain and made contact with his warm brown eyes – the reflection of his son's. "We never had t' money for a spread such as this – I've never eaten like this before in all me days. Thank you, Captain Teague, thank you." Her voice and eyes were genuine and the captain believed every word she said. Jack looked on without saying a word.

Captain Teague nodded and replied sincerely, "You're very welcome, Anna. It was my pleasure to satisfy you so – and please, call me Edward."

Anna was surprised at the honour. This was Jack's father, one of the most fearsome pirates of the Caribbean, and he wanted her to enjoy the intimate relationship with him that came with being on first-name basis. Even Jack seemed surprised – usually his father enjoyed and preferred being referred to by his captain title.

"Right, now let's have a little play on the guitar and a listen to Anna's voice. I'm keen to hear." The elder captain started shuffling about in his chair and instantly the serious mood was lightened. His gaze shifted between his two guests. "Would either of you care for a spot of rum?" Jack opened his mouth to reply and immediately his father cut him off. "Don't bother answering, stupid question, of course you do Jackie." Jack grinned and Anna giggled. Captain Teague looked at her. "Anna?"

Jack replied for her. "Anna likes brandy," he was still grinning. "She told me the first night we met, didn't you Anna?"

"Christ, y' sound like we're an old married couple talking t' our grandchildren," Anna laughed. "But I did, aye."

"She set some kind of test for me, didn't you?"

"A test?" Captain Teague was intrigued.

"She never did tell me the details." Jack looked to her. "Which reminds me, when are you going to explain?"

Anna smiled mysteriously. "Why would I? It would ruin the allure."

"Darling, you couldn't be any more alluring if you tried."

Anna froze and suddenly the room seemed to go very still. Anna and Jack looked at each other deeply, and the strange changed atmosphere they experienced earlier on the gangplank returned. Suddenly, Captain Teague broke the tension by clearing his throat and getting to his feet. "Brandy," he muttered to himself, and set about searching through his ornate drinks cabinet for some. Jack and Anna looked away from each other.

Soon, they were all settled in the cabin's comfortable armchairs with their respective drinks. Captain Teague tuned his Spanish guitar and, when satisfied, looked at Anna expectantly. "Go on, then," he encouraged. "Give us a tune."

Anna glanced at the guitar. "If I just sing, will you be able to just… go along with it?" She blushed slightly, suddenly feeling very nervous. She knew nothing about music and it showed.

Captain Teague didn't seem to care. "Aye, I should be able to pick it up," he said casually. "I'll improvise." He smiled at her.

Anna took a deep breath and closed her eyes.

"_So close your eyes, for that's a lovely way to be:_

_Aware of things your heart alone was meant to see_

_The fundamental loneliness goes whenever two can dream a dream together."_

Having got a feel for the tune, Captain Teague's sweet guitar joined in with her rich contralto.

"_You can't deny, don't try to fight the rising sea_

_Don't fight the moon, the stars above, and don't fight me…"_

Anna put all other thoughts from her mind and concentrated solely on the song and the sounds of the captain's guitar. Jack, too, closed his eyes, and allowed himself to be absorbed into the music.

"_When I saw you first, the time was half past three_

_When your eyes met mine, it was eternity…"_

At last, Anna found the courage to open her eyes, and found Jack staring right at her. Trying not to sound perturbed, she focused on the melody once more.

"_By now we know, the wave is on its way to be_

_Just catch the wave, don't be afraid of loving me_

_The fundamental loneliness goes whenever two can dream a dream together."_

The final chord from Captain Teague's guitar rang out in the stillness of the cabin. Jack and Anna were still looking at each other. "Beautiful," the elder captain said. "She really has a lovely voice." He looked at his son, who didn't break Anna's eye contact. Eventually, he suggested they sing another song, and they continued in that fashion for much of the evening.

By the time Captain Teague's fingers had become tired and chapped and Anna was beginning to be hoarse, the cabin was stuffy and suffocating. The captain suggested they adjourn to the deck to cool down and enjoy a final number before calling it a night, and so the emerged from the cabin into the cool night time air.

The sky above was bright, clear and starry and the three settled comfortably to relax. The concluding song began.

"_Quiet nights of quiet stars,_

_Quiet chords from his guitar…"_

When the final notes had faded into the darkness, the three were happy to sit in companionable silence in the lantern light for some moments before saying their goodnights. Captain Teague thanked Jack for the repairs on his ship and gave him some gold to distribute among the crew for their help. "Don't give her any, mind," he pointed at Anna with a mock-warning tone in his voice. "She'll have enough when she gets her extorting mitts on that treasure." He winked at her and she grinned sheepishly.

"Eh, don't be so hard on her, Dad," Jack defended her, wrapping a warm arm around her waist. "If it weren't for her being a money-hungry little monkey we might not have the directions to the island at all." He grinned down at her.

Captain Teague shrugged. "Ey, fair enough." He told them he'd be long gone by dawn, and began ordering his drowsy crew around to prepare the ship to make way. Another fat merchant ship to plunder, more women and rum to buy. "A pirate's life for me, lad."

"Aye, and me and all." Jack replied, and he and Anna made their way back across the gangplank. Maybe it was the darkness or the brandy, but it didn't seem nearly as difficult as it had the first time.

When they'd reached the other side (and Anna had safely landed on deck on her feet rather than her belly) they stood facing each other in the moonlight, Anna unsure of what to do next and Jack looking as sure of himself as ever.

"So, Miss Carmichael – _Anna_," he corrected himself after a stern glance from her, "You never did answer my question."

Anna frowned. "What question?"

"Am I a decent man?" He took a step towards her. "You said you'd find a decent man to marry, so am I a decent man?" He leant in for a kiss.

She placed a finger to his lips and took a step back. "Just so we're straight," she said as calmly as she could, though her heart raced, "Are you proposing to me here?"

Jack smiled mysteriously. "I don't know, am I?" He went in for another kiss.

She leant away. "No, I need a proper answer." Her voice was somewhat stern.

"Why?" he asked. "We live but once, why be certain about everything?"

Anna didn't look convinced.

"Anna, love," he tried again. "Soon we will have all the imaginable riches of the earth in our hands." He took her hands and turned them palm up to the sky. "Does a small thing like this really matter if we're to be rich as kings?"

"Marriage _isn't _a small thing," she said soberly. "It's just what y' said earlier. 'A pirate's life for me' and all that. If y' are proposing to me – and frankly I don't know whether y' are and in truth y're bein' so bloody awkward at this moment that I don't really care whether y' are or not – but if y' are, I'd like to know if and how wives figure into this 'pirate's life for me' bollocks. I wanna know what I'm lettin' mesen in for." She regarded him as if he were a mule she was considering buying and she was weighing up whether his strength and doggedness was going to outweigh the fact that he had a tendency to kick and bite.

He winced slightly at her frustrated declaration that she didn't care. "It's _not _bollocks," he protested, like a small child who'd just had his favourite toy insulted.

"It's a load of manly posturing but it dun't _mean _owt," she said, more truthfully than he would like to admit. She turned away and looked out to sea.

"Anna," he took her arm and turned her back towards him. "Y're not like any woman I've ever met. I can't bloody figure y' out at all – and while I hate you for it, a part of me loves it as well." She smiled softly. "I never even entertained the idea of getting married-"

"Neither did I," she interjected.

"-I love me freedom too much." Anna opened her mouth to interrupt again, but Jack said, "Please, Anna, don't say anything. Not yet. I've always thought, y'know, that marriage is the opposite of freedom because it's a bit like being tied down to something… but the idea of being married to someone like _you,_ Anna, seems a whole lot like the freedom to spend the rest of my life being blissfully, wondrously happy."

Anna smiled softly at him. He raised his hand to caress her soft cheek. She seemed deep in thought, contemplating what he'd said. She turned away again and leant against the side of the ship.

"Dad likes you, you know," he said.

Anna was still smiling. "I know. I like 'im."

They waved to the _Misty Lady _as she moved away from the _Pearl_ and fell into silence for some time. Eventually, Jack asked, "What are you thinking?"

She turned back to face him. "I'm thinking I'm not sure I believe y' when y' say y' want t' marry me. I'm thinkin' y're probably drunk and want to take me to bed so-"

"Me love, you do me a disservice," interjected Jack, in somewhat feigned hurt.

"No, I don't think I do," she said certainly.

Jack paused. "All right then, I admit you don't."

Anna's face creased into a smile and she giggled. "Oh, Jack," she leant against his warm, solid chest and he placed an arm around her and cuddled her to him. "I've no idea what's goin' on in me life at the moment. How did I come from bein' a bartender in Tortuga to a pirate's mistress?"

He poked her in the shoulder. "It's your fault for blackmailing me."

She giggled. "I'm not sorry. I wun't change a thing. I've no idea what's goin' on, but by God, it's the happiest I've been in ages."

He kissed the top of her head before resting his chin on it and drawing her closer. "Anna, you know the song you sang earlier? The first one?"

"Mmm," she murmured, snuggling into him.

"'Just catch the wave, don't be afraid of loving me'… are you afraid?"

"Oh, Jack," she sighed heavily. "I'm terrified."

"So am I."

They were silent for a while more. "I don't want you to feel you have to marry me out of honour or some rubbish. I don't mind if we don't. I'm not foolin' mesen into thinkin' this is somethin' it's not."

Jack laughed. "You don't have to worry about me doing something honourable, love. You said it yourself, I'm a pirate."

"Maybe I am too, now," she said. "Or I will be, soon."

They stood like that for some time, entwined with each other, watching the _Misty Lady _fade into the darkness. At last, Jack drew Anna's face up towards his so she looked into his eyes. "Maybe I am proposing to you, love," he said seriously, tracing his thumb along her bottom lip.

"Maybe I'm saying yes." She reached her arm around his neck and pulled his lips to hers in a true, honest kiss that seemed to say everything that they hadn't.


End file.
